


Don't Put Up Your Borderline

by alcomol



Category: Homestuck
Genre: BPD Karkat, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcomol/pseuds/alcomol
Summary: Somebody's been throwing a lot of jealous looks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so NaNoWriMo is upon us, and instead of trying to work on a single story, I'm just gonna try and write 50k words this month, and a lot of that will be in oneshots like this. I was pretty unmotivated, so I started with something that's pretty easy for me to write: borderline Karkat. This ended up kinda cathartic for me lmao, regardless I hope you enjoy it!

You are absolutely certain Dave Strider does not love you.

It's come to this again. It always comes to this. You're holed up in your room, sulking in your recuperacoon, which isn't exactly a rare occasion for you, but it still feels as shitty as it does every other time. Maybe one day it'll stop feeling shitty. Only one way to find out, you guess.

You're not sure how long you've been sulking here. An hour, maybe. Time doesn't really work properly when you're like this. And again, you come back to the same question: _why_ am _I like this? Why couldn't I be a_ normal _goddamn troll. Or just normal by mutantblood standards. Would it have killed whatever gods there are to NOT make me a huge fuckup?_

Your stomach rumbles. You wonder how long it'll be before they disperse. You don't want to go out while they're still there, especially as a certain asshole would have a field day mocking you for running off.

You're considering just going to sleep when you hear your door click open.

Fuck. Not thinking anyone would come looking for you, you hadn't locked it, and now you're paying for your mistake. You burrow deeper into the slime, hoping they'll go away, but shit, shit, they're coming over to you. Their footsteps stop next to you.

"Sup."

Fuck, shit, hell, damn, and many other curse words. This is last person you wanted to see right now. Your entire face flushes at the thought, but you stay completely still. He'll leave, he'll leave -

"Dude, I know you're not asleep."

"Fuck off."

"Are you gonna come out?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

A pause. Great. You won. He'll go away and leave you alone. Just like you want. At least, like you deserve.

"Okay. You've left me no other option here, man."

"What -" You're cut off as a foot touches down inches from your face. "DAVE GET OUT!"

"Wow, this stuff is weird as fuck."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING -"

"It's like standing on fuckin custard."

"- WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM -"

"Aw, gross, it's sticking to my sweet pyjamas."

"- IF YOU DON'T FUCKING LEAVE I SWEAR TO GOG I WILL -"

"Alright, nice." He settles in next to you, his God Tier robes plastered in green slime, and you stop shouting, because obviously it's not gonna fucking get you anywhere. Asshole. Bastard. There are many words you would use to describe the dick sitting next to you. And a lot more words you don't even want to think about.

"Hey, dude. Bro. Shouty. Karcrab. Nubs. Karkat Marx."

"What the hell do you want, Strider?" You ask, more to shut him up than anything else.

"I wanna know why you ran off like that."

"I didn't run off," you mutter, trying to turn away, which isn't an easy task in semi-solid slime.

"Sure. You gonna explain, or am I gonna have to address the horse in the room?"

"I thought your human metaphor was about elephants."

"It is, but this time it's a horse, because the thing's been beaten into the fucken dirt by now."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Dave sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, then immediately cursing as he smeared slime all over it. "Look, dude, I know what's going on here."

Your stomach freezes. Fuck, _fuck_ , he _knows_. You have no idea how he worked it out, but right now, you're not sure whether you want to throw up or die more.

"I know this is because what me and Terezi were doing."

You don't say anything. No reaction, no response, and maybe he'll change the subject, or start rambling again, or anything, as long as it stops going in this direction.

Dave clears his throat awkwardly. "I get that you like her, but geez dude, she's really not interested in you."

The surge of relief that flows through you and melts your stomach almost makes you feel even _more_ sick, and you can't stop a snort escaping you what you just heard. Damn. What a presumptuous asshole, but at least he's a _wrong_ presumptuous asshole.

Dave mistakes your snort for something else, because he continues on, "It's been weeks, Karkat. I got over her not liking me, and I think this place would be a lil less dramatic if you did the same."

"You don't know shit," you say weakly, still reeling.

"Dude, I'm trying to help out here." Oh hell, he sounds mildly annoyed now. This isn't what you wanted.

"Dave. I don't know where the fuck you got this batshit theory from, but trust me. You're wrong."

"Oh yeah, like I don't see your dirty looks every time I'm hanging out with her."

Shit, you didn't think he'd noticed those. Why are you so bad at being subtle, goddamn it.

"Karkat," he says, and he's even more annoyed now, fuck, "I'm giving you solid advice here. Stop throwing tantrums over girls, it's super uncool."

"Dave, I'm not-"

"She just doesn't like you, dude, she's too busy roleplaying with Vriska or whatever."

"Shut up, it's not about-"

"So let it go, all these dirty looks aren't exactly gonna win her back over-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, WILL YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING TRAP FOR ONCE, THIS IS _NOT_. ABOUT. TEREZI!"

Dave shuts his fucking trap for once. You... you said that out loud. You said that, out loud, _really_ loud, to Dave.

Fuck.

"Then what, dude. Why do you get so jealous when she's with me?"

"Because... because I..." Can you drown yourself in sopor slime? It would probably look pretty suspicious, but fuck it, you'd be dead, it's not like anyone could question you. You bury your face in your hands, not even caring about the slime dripping down your face. You've ruined everything, again, and there's no way out of it this time. You've backed your sorry ass right into a corner. You are stuck in here, with the insufferable prick you hate more than anyone else, and you wish you could hate him more so you wouldn't have to feel like this.

"Because I'm a huge fucking tool and I don't know how the hell to express emotions so I'm fucking stuck here watching the only fucking person who still tolerates me on this meteor go off and hang with someone else who got bored of me because of my awful shitty behaviour and probably hear in great detail about how shitty I am to everyone I care about and before long they'll get bored of me too and leave me the fuck alone like I deserve to be because I can't even like one person without getting disgustingly fucking jealous every time they show affection to someone else even when they deserve it more and deserve better than a useless fucking shitlord -"

"Whoa, hey." Dave reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch involuntarily, your body tensing up like all your bones are slamming against each other. He starts, and pulls his hand away again. "Slow down. You talk really fast."

Your whole body is at war, your stomach trying to churn itself out of your skin, which is on fire, and your hands are trembling, either with an urge to claw yourself to pieces or to force your mouth shut before you say anything. You are Karkat Fucking Vantas, and if there's one thing you don't do, it's apologise. You are mean, and shitty, and horrible, and if you started saying sorry, you'd never stop. You are absolutely not going to start now, especially not to this asshole.

Of course, you're Karkat Fucking Vantas, and you're shit at everything you do.

"Fuck, Dave, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so fucking impossible. And I know this probably sounds fake as shit, but I _mean_ it. I'm a shitty, jealous douchebag, and I don't know how to deal with it, because every single fucking person I've cared about has either died or lost interest in me. So I act like a fucking asshole, and it just makes them leave faster, and I wish I wasn't like this, and I'm trying so _hard_ to change, but at the end of the day I'm probably going to be like this forever. And you deserve to walk away from someone like me, and I should let you, but it feels so fucking awful watching it happen that I make the whole thing worse, and I'm _sorry_. I'm so fucking sorry."

Silence.

You knuckle your eyes furiously, looking everywhere you can that isn't at him. You don't know if he's going to say anything, and for a long, agonising moment, he just sits there. You're about to give up hope when he says quietly, "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you apologise to anyone."

"Fuck off," you mutter, sniffing, though he's right, and you deserve to feel like shit about it.

"What makes me so special?"

A burst of annoyance overcomes your fear, and you snap at him, "What the hell do you think, asshole?" You glare at him, and for the first time catch what looks like surprise on his face. Wait. Wait, shit. What the fuck did you say _that_ for? Are you never tired of digging yourself deeper into these holes?

"Look," you say heavily, averting your eyes again. "It's alright. It's not your fault this happened, or that I'm clingy and overbearing. I've told you why I've been such a jerk, and even though it doesn't really fix anything, at least you know. I'm not gonna force you to deal with this. You can leave, I understand. You're an annoying shitbag, but you still deserve better than a fucked up waste of space like me."

There's a long, long silence. You feel the slime shift, and you're expecting him to climb back out when a warm weight takes your hand.

"I don't think you're a fucked up waste of space."

Just those few words make your eyes sting. "You don't?"

"Not really. You're kind of a dickweed, but you've been through a lot of shit, and it's not exactly weird for you to be a little messed up after that." There's a catch to his voice as he adds, "You're not the only one."

"What..."

"Not today. Sorry. It's a lot of shit I don't really wanna think about yet." He turns his head toward you, and though it's hard to tell with his shades on, you think he's looking right at you. "Karkat, I don't know if I can help. I don't think anyone but you can learn to deal with this. But... I wanna be there while you do."

"You think I _can_ learn to deal with this, then?"

"Hell yeah, bro. I believe in you." He smiles at you, and you lose all reserve you had left, and throw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder and pretending that you aren't crying.

He hugs you hard, and lets you sit silently for a moment before whispering in your ear, "This whole jealousy thing is the corniest romance movie shit ever, dude."

You snort, drawing away and wiping your face on your sleeve. "Yeah, why's it only cute when normal people do it?"

"Who knows. Fuck normal people, they suck." Dave gently wipes your cheek. "You want me to make it even more corny?" You nod, and he moves closer again, his cheek brushing yours as he murmurs in your ear, "You never had anything to be jealous about."

Your face immediately flushes, but you manage to keep your cool and say drily, "This is me we're talking about. I'll always find something."

"Then find something else," he smirks, and whatever rebuke you had about whatever the hell that means is lost in his mouth, and you lose the ability to say anything coherent at all.

You are still not absolutely certain that Dave Strider loves you. But you are a lot more sure that he does than you were before.


End file.
